


Spilled Wine and Sunsets

by Kaenith



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Four Swords
Genre: (or am I?), Angst, I'm Sorry, M/M, Violence, just... read the summary and consider yourself warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 23:04:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14175300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaenith/pseuds/Kaenith
Summary: I don’t generally take writing prompts, because my inspiration for writing is unpredictable to say the least. But I did see a prompt list around a while back, and one of the promptsdidcatch my eye……and I’m sorry, but it was one of the worst ones.Individual character prompt:Write their death scene, even if you’re not planning on killing them within the piece.





	Spilled Wine and Sunsets

Councilman Umnar pours the wine himself.  The task is below his station, as one of the three members of the governing council of the country of Gethae, but this is not the sort of conversation one has with prying ears about.

For similar reasons, the windows of the meeting room are closed despite the tropical summer heat.  Vio is sweating under his formal garb, designed for the more temperate environment of Hyrule.  He laces his fingers together to keep from picking at his clothing and does his best not to let the discomfort show.

“I won’t insult your intelligence,” Umnar says, handing one of the two wine glasses to Vio.  “I assume you know why I asked to speak to you alone?”

Vio takes the offered wine and sets it down on the table in front of him without drinking.  It’s almost hard to find a place to put it, between artfully arranged plates of fruit pieces and shellfish and other small delicacies. “Yes.  Because despite years of peace in Hyrule, you believe that Shadow – one of the heroes of our land, and my _boyfriend_ – “ he stresses the word “- is one bad mood away from reducing the kingdom to rubble.”

“Now now,” says Umnar, “That’s a bit harsh.  Let’s not make this personal.”

Vio raises an eyebrow, and the councilman gives an exaggerated wince.  “Fair, fair.  I suppose it cannot help but be personal when the subject is so… so very _close_ to you.”  He doesn’t quite manage to hide the sneering curl of his lip as he casts a look at Vio’s shadow, lying utterly still and unremarkable on the ground beside Vio.

Umnar shakes his head, shortly.  “But surely… our countries are not close neighbors, but even here we have heard tell of your renowned wisdom, your position as one of Her Majesty Queen Zelda’s most trusted advisors.  You’re a man who values reason, rationality.  So please, I ask only that I may better understand: why trust a demon?  Why should my country tie our fate to yours, when you have already allied yourselves with the forces of darkness?”

Vio dismisses this with no more than an annoyed flick of his ear and a nearly-imperceptible tightening of his jaw.  “I doubt I have the words to convince you, where so many years of example have failed.  You see only what you expect to see.  You are truly a man of great conviction, that even evidence fails to sway you.”  Two can play at the backhanded flattery game.

Umnar’s smile – which has never been anything but thin and fake throughout Vio’s entire acquaintance with the man – looks, if possible, even more strained.  There is a moment of tense eye contact, neither of them willing to drop their politely-fake pleasant facades.

Umnar is the first to break, looking away.  He picks up a small silvery knife from the table, and with deft slices begins carving one of the small fruits into the shape of Gethae’s crest.  He holds it delicately with a fork to keep from staining his white gloves.  “I suppose it was a long shot, anyway.  In the end the outcome matters not.  You and I both know that even as we speak, my esteemed peers, Councilwoman Tamsia and Councilwoman Halora, are on a walk with your Queen Zelda in the capital’s gardens.  Councilwoman Halora has so far refused to be a tiebreaker, as she wishes this to be a unanimous decision between the three of us, but her resolve wavers.  She has already spoken to me privately, urging me to reconsider.  If I do not, I do not doubt she will join Councilwoman Tamsia in ruling in your favor.”  A wry twist of his mouth, possibly the first hint of genuine emotion Vio has seen on his face.  “Your Queen is a most convincing speaker.”

He sighs.  “Please, even if we cannot see eye-to-eye in this, may we at least agree that it would be a shame to waste this most excellent wine?   A toast, to the end of this stalemate, in whichever direction fate – or Councilwoman Halora, as the case may be – decides it shall fall.”

Vio does raise his glass to clink against Umnar’s, but sets it back down without letting it touch his lips.

“Come now, don’t be that way,” Umnar simpers.

“I don’t drink.”

“Gethae’s pear wine is renowned the continent over!  You truly are missing out.”

“I prefer root beer.”

That stops the councilman short.  He opens his mouth to protest again.  Closes it.  Visibly struggles to find something to say that _isn’t_ an accusation of childishness directed at the advisor of a foreign Queen.

Vio allows himself the barest twitch of an amused smile.

“I see,” Umnar finally settles on.  “Well, that is regrettable.”

Umnar begins to turn away, then whips back abruptly, a flash of silver at his fingertips.  A knife, thrown with unerring accuracy.

Vio gasps at the impact, doubled over with one arm wrapped across his stomach.  He clutches at the table for a handhold, knocking over a vase of flowers and a little bowl of jam as he struggles to his feet.

On the ground beside him, Vio’s shadow _writhes_ , billowing up like smoke before coalescing into a humanoid form – black-clad, purple-haired, and _furious_.  Shadow snarls, crouching as if to leap right across the table and attack Umnar bare-handed, but before he can make a move, Vio’s knees buckle.

He goes down with a _crash_ , his desperate grip on the tablecloth bringing the whole thing down with him.  Silverware clatters to the ground.  Fruit bowls spill their contents.  The bottle of wine Umnar had so praised goes flying, shattering and splashing across the floor.  Shadow drops to his knees beside Vio, expression melting from fury to concern in an instant.

Above them, Umnar crows in triumph— “So the demon shows his face at last!  Your scheming will be revealed, your plans foiled!” —but neither of them acknowledge him.

“Vi,” Shadow begins, pulling Vio’s upper body to rest across his knees, cradling the back of Vio’s head.  “I – I’ll get help, a healer, I’ll—“

“No time,” Vio interrupts.  “I think… on the blade… poison.”

“No!”  Shadow’s ears pin back, a growl rumbling in his chest, but poison isn’t something that can be defeated with teeth and claws.  “You _can’t!_   This isn’t— this isn’t how it’s meant to be!  You have to fight it, Vio!  You have to hold on!”

“Shhh.”  Vio lifts a hand to brush Shadow’s cheek, leaving behind a smear of red.  Shadow catches Vio’s hand with one of his own, pressing closer.

“Please,” Shadow whispers.  His shoulders slump as the fight goes out of him in the space of a breath.  “You _have_ too.  Don’t leave me.  I—I love you.”

Vio smiles – a weak, flickering smile.  “Have I ever told you… how beautiful your eyes are?  Like… a sunset…”  His eyelids droop.  “Who could ask for a better final sight… a better way to go… than off into… the sunset.”

“Vio!”

Vio’s hand slips from Shadow’s face.  His body goes limp across Shadow’s lap.

_“Vio!”_

Shadow crumples, collapsing over Vio’s chest.  He stays there, face pressed against Vio’s shoulder, breathing raggedly.  The puddle of spilled wine has spread, soaking into the knees of Shadow’s trousers, the hem of Vio’s tunic.  Cold.  Unpleasant.  Shadow ignores it.

After several long moments, Shadow draws a deep, shuddery breath and sits up.  When he turns to glare at Councilman Umnar, his eyes are steel and fire.  A red stain mars the side of his face, dripping off his chin.

“Do you even realize what you’ve done?” Shadow snarls, still cradling Vio’s limp form in his arms.

“Correction,” says the councilman, “what _you’ve_ done.”  For the first time, his smile looks sickeningly genuine.  “I was merely enjoying a stroll on this fine summer evening, when I heard raised voices.  An argument?  Recognizing the voices of two of the delegation from Hyrule, I became concerned.  Of course, I have made my opinion on the prudence of trusting a dark-world demon quite clear, but surely even a demon has his limits?  Surely if only one person would be safe from him, it would be the one he claims to _love_?  But the anger I heard!”  Umnar shakes his head, tutting despairingly, theatrically.  “I rushed to intervene before anyone could come to harm, but alas!  I was too late.  The demon had already turned a knife on his lover.”

“Bastard,” Shadow hisses between bared teeth.

Umnar’s smile only widens.  “Perhaps he could even yet have been saved, and yet!  Great misfortune: the knife had been used in the preparation of Yellow Gethae Reef Fish, and not yet properly cleaned.  They’re a local delicacy, you know.  Delicious when properly prepared, but if even a drop of the raw blood makes its way into a Hylian’s bloodstream…”

“That is _enough_ ,” booms a commanding voice from behind Umnar.

Umnar and Shadow both jolt, turning to look.  In the doorway stand Councilwoman Tamsia and Councilwoman Halora, accompanied by Queen Zelda and Green.  All four of them look grim.  Halora – the youngest of the council, and the one who had held out hope for a unanimous decision – seems on the verge of horrified tears, her hands clasped over her mouth.  Guards line the walls of the room, having entered unnoticed whilst Umnar was gloating.

“I—that is—“ Umnar stammers.

“ _Enough_ ,” Tamsia repeats, holding up a hand for silence.

Umnar falters for a moment, then sets his jaw and forges ahead.  “You needed to see the truth, that this treaty could not be allowed.  I only did what was necessary to—“

Tamsia narrows her eyes.  With a flick of her wrist, the guards converge.

Umnar takes a half step back, but there’s nowhere to run.  “Halora!” he calls, as the guards reach him, grabbing his arms and checking him for further weapons.  “Halora!  You have been sympathetic to me, surely _you_ understand!”

Halora looks at him, eyes watery.  Then she lifts her chin and turns away, walking back out the door.

“ _Halora_!” Umnar calls after her as the guards pull him the opposite way down the corridor, towards the castle dungeons.

Once Green is sure the guards have Umnar under control, he steps away from Zelda’s side, leaving her and Tamsia to converse in low tones.  He approaches Shadow cautiously, trying not to startle.  Shadow is still kneeling on the floor, curled around Vio’s motionless form, his shoulders shaking silently.  Green reaches out to place a gentle hand on his friend’s back.

“Shadow?” he asks.

Shadow’s shoulders hitch a couple more times, then he sits back…

… and laughs.

Tears stream from Shadow’s eyes, and he swipes at them, still howling with laughter.  After a moment, an amused snort escapes Vio, and his eyelids flutter and open.  He sits up, letting the knife he’d been holding near his stomach clatter to the ground.

“Nobody touch that without gloves,” he says, inspecting the gash in his clothing where it had hit him.  “It’s got evidence on it.  Also it might kill you if you get cut.”  As predicted, the small knife had inflicted a decent hole in his least-favorite formal tunic, but it hadn’t gotten through the padded leather armor beneath.

Green huffs out a laugh and crosses his arms.  “You know, I’m pretty sure you two _could_ have come up with a plan that _didn’t_ involve getting me and Zelda and two-thirds of a foreign country’s governing body in on a scheme to fake your own death.”

Shadow grins.  “But where’s the fun in that?  And don’t look at _me_ , _Vio_ was the one getting all dramatic about my _eyes_.”

Despite the dismissive tone, Vio doesn’t miss the way Shadow glances to the side, cheeks coloring ever-so-slightly as he says that.  He smirks and gently taps his knuckles against Shadow’s upper arm.  “People in glass houses, my friend!  I seem to recall _you_ making a ‘last, desperate’ declaration of love, as if we didn’t have that sorted out years ago.  How much more cliché could you be?”

“Well, what about _this_ , then!” Shadow says, wiping jam off his cheek and making a face at Vio.  “We didn’t discuss _that_ ahead of time!”

Vio snickers, and reaches up to use his sleeve to clean a spot Shadow missed.  His tunic is already a lost cause, anyway – a few stains can’t make it any _more_ ruined.  “Sorry.  I saw the bowl on the table and I couldn’t resist.”

“Alright you two,” Green says, offering a hand up.  “You need to go change into presentable clothes before all of Gethae sees you looking like a pair of guilty toddlers who got into the pantry.”  He can’t hide his grin, and he doesn’t really try.

“ _Goddesses_ yes,” Vio agrees, accepting the offered hand and pulling himself to his feet.  “I may be alive thanks to this armor, but if I don’t get out of it soon I think I’ll die of heatstroke.”

Shadow takes a moment to wrap the discarded knife in a cloth napkin, before also scrambling to his feet and handing the knife over to Green for safekeeping.

They pass by Tamsia and Zelda on their way out of the room.  Tamsia gives them a grave nod of acknowledgement, as dignified and unflappable as ever.  Beside her, Zelda’s eyes sparkle with restrained mischief.

As they head back to their guest quarters to clean up, Vio leans in close until his shoulder brushes against Shadow’s.  “You know,” he says, speaking quietly so no one but Shadow can hear.  “I meant what I said, about your eyes.”

Shadow smiles, and wordlessly reaches out to lace their fingers together.

**Author's Note:**

> :3c  
> Hey, the prompt said “write a death scene,” it didn’t necessarily say I had to _actually_ kill anybody off!


End file.
